worries of mine

Years ago my wife gave me a T-shirt that read "Can't Sleep, Clowns Will Eat Me." Not only is it funny by itself besides being a not so obscure Simpsons reference, its funny for me since I am an insomniac with a propensity to worry. I’m sure that by now, this revelation is utterly shocking. And yes, that is your Sarcasma-Tron 5400 that just blew up while overloading, setting your curtains on fire.

Why do I worry? Firstly, it is my genetic predisposition. Secondly, I would stop worrying but I wonder who on earth would pick up the slack.

You see, I don't waste a lot of time worrying about stupid shit. Truth is its a scary world out there and someone has to remain vigilant. Why not me? I will gladly take this burden on myself. I'm going to worry anyway, right? And I promise I am only spending my time worrying about really important shit, like:

· when I flush the urinal it will spray pee in my face, even if I am not facing the urinal at the moment of flushing

· I might accidentally watch an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger

· I could develop a bizarre attraction to spiny fish

· my best friend might really, really love a song by the Backstreet Boys

· the new Dean Koontz book might NOT chronicle the perils of a writer being stalked by a villain with a high metabolism that allows him to eat as much junk food as he wants and never lose his sexy evil physique

· I could watch Pat Robertson in an interview and not hate his guts

· Fox News might actually be fair and balanced

· I'm going to pull up to a streetlight, it will turn purple and I will sit in shame not knowing what to do while people honk and point at me

· God not only answers the prayers of athletes in need of a 53 yard field goal with three seconds to spare, but such prayers are rushed to the front of the queue

· the Heathrow baggage retrieval system might not be up to snuff

· bacon causes cancer

· Michael Bay has been channeling Stanley Kubrik... since Bad Boys

· Yale President Richard Levin will discover who I really am and where I live and that some day he will show up on my doorstep to give me the grammatically correct ass-kicking I've got coming

· Prince might become a Unitarian thus shaming me into becoming something else.

· "the choice of a new generation" is actually RC Cola

· if by chance there is a Heaven and by some miracle I manage to make it there Jesus won't be able to tell me what’s going on in Lost.

· the words "thusly" and "fancy" (fancy as a verb) are going to catch on and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

If I don’t agonize over these pressing and universal issues, who will?

And you wonder why I can't sleep...